Lickety Split
by startanew
Summary: He’s got his water colours and his thesaurus. Yes, Arnie Rimmer is once again, attempting to revise for his exam. Do you think he’ll get there this time? Read and Review please!


**Author's notes:**

_Rated for language. Invented bad words, but they're used in the same context as real bad words._

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I am dedicating this story to my friend Linda, who first introduced me to Red Dwarf years ago. By trying to explain it to me rather than showing me. Which led me to have some very strange ideas about what the show was about, until I read it then saw it, but oh well, at least I ended up loving it and that's the main point! I'm also dedicating this to Narell, my British Comedy loving friend. We share our obsessions with each other. Probably to our own peril. And, to my other Red Dwarf loving friends, such as Rob and Chris.

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Yes, I realise that in the novel and probably also in the show, Rimmer did not take quite so many months for his exam revision. (though in the novel there was something about 7 months of humming from Lister) However, there are many adventures and every day life missing from the show and the novel, so Rimmer probably took the exam many more times than is mentioned. Also, because he had a lot of time with everyone dead and all, he probably gave himself longer to slowly nibble away at the facts. I also hope you understand the title of the story! This story is based on a combination of the novel and the show, complete with words such as 'biro' and 'sellotape'.

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I hope you like it! All reviews very gratefully received. This is only my second fanfic ever, and my first attempt at any form of comedy writing in several years. 

The characters and the story Red Dwarf do not belong to me. They belong to Rob Grant and Doug Naylor, aka Grant Naylor.

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**Licketty Split**

'You have to have a goal or you're not going anywhere' Rimmer read out loud, rubbing at the large H on his forehead denoting his hologramatic status. He'd stuck that quote, among others, above his bunk yesterday. Well, not him, personally, it wasn't possible for him anymore. He'd gotten one of the amputee giraffe look-alike skutters to Sellotape it there, under his expert direction, of course. Normally the little smeggers wouldn't be able to even do what they were programmed for, let alone help him motivate himself to rise through the ranks to finally become an officer! The position he deserved, the rank he was meant to be! Ah yes, now that was a real goal! Not just 'get back to Earth' like that ambitionless Lister!

"You'll never make it!" Lister had told him, grinning that inane gerbil grin, shovelling his vindaloo into his maw.

"Why bother? It cuts into precious sleeping and grooming time, doesn't it? And the suits are so ugly!" Cat said, wrinkling his nose in disgust. Even Kryten, the automated bogbot with a head the shape of something unrecognisable yet very definitely ugly, after the ugly thing had suffered a rather unfortunate accident with a trash compactor, had had the nerve to comment negatively.

"You just don't get it, do you, Mr Rimmer, Sir." and "You'll be fine! End Lie Mode"

Well, he'd show them. What would Lister of all 'people' know anyway! When that ape joined the Space Corps he was living in a largish luggage locker, without any ID other than one for a rather ugly woman! Now, that was a real lack of talent! And the so-called 'man' only wanted to settle down and live in a run down house with a wife and two children! He obviously needed a lobotomy! Rimmer on the other hand, knew that he had talent. Yes, good ole Arnie Rimmer had potential for greatness even without the benefit of the right parents, the right education and the right experiences. So much talent.

So, he'd taken the exam seventeen or so times now. Or something like that anyway, he couldn't quite remember, he thought, as he stared at the reassuring quotes on the wall. So what. And, technically, it was only twelve times anyway... five of those times he'd not shown up. Completely not his fault of course. Not enough air in the corridors, causing him to collapse. Too much air in the corridors, causing him to hyperventilate and collapse. Food poisoning. The alarm clock breaking. Lister. So, he'd not passed. It was just bad luck that he hadn't really. Not his fault at all. He would get there eventually, that's all that mattered. If he didn't have a goal, he was nothing. What would his life be worth if he never did anything with it. Well, his death, actually, now, he supposed. At least that was one good thing about dying, he now had a lot longer to work at fulfilling his goals. He had been the most efficient leader of Z shift in the entire history of the Dwarf. The food dispensers were never out of chicken soup or fun-sized confectionary, and his shoes were always shiny. It could only be concluded that it was simply circumstances beyond his control that meant he hadn't become an officer.

"Should I get the dictionary so you can look up how to spell 'fish'? Can't get too much study in. You only have 8 months before the exam you know!" Rimmer jumped. Lister. Sneaking up on him. Dressed in that stupid jacket. Chewing on something disgusting. Probably a wad of his own hair...

Rimmer flared his nostrils and shouted belatedly, "That was only one time! Besides, it was a brilliant paper. In code. They were just too smegging stupid to understand it." He stopped gesticulating madly and turned away, crossing his arms.

"Yes, writing "I am a fish" something like one thousand times and then asking for more paper before doing a little dance and fainting is a brilliant end to your non- study. Here. I brought you a present. This sweat proof permanent biro," Lister said, ignoring Rimmer's consequent outburst of ranting and grinned, throwing the biro casually through Rimmer onto the perfectly made bed, knowing Rimmer could no longer touch it to pick it up. He laughed and lumbered out of the room, the door sliding shut behind him.

Rimmer gritted his teeth. "I will pass." He sat on the floor and did some rhythmic breathing to calm himself down. He'd once read in 'Confidence' magazine that it was a good tactic.

Right.

"Skutters!" he screeched, getting up. They came whirring along the corridor, somehow seeming to be shaking their 'heads' insolently at him. "That's enough of that. I am a superior to you and you will do as you're told or you'll have me, my command over Kryten, your collection of old Western movies and a voice activated airlock to deal with!"

He told them to fetch his special study lamp for reducing eye stress, and to set up his desk. He then called on Holly, who promptly appeared on the wall screen wearing a ridiculous hat, to demand a hologramatic set of water colours, paper, pencils and five kinds of biro. Of course Holly gave him the wrong kind. Stupid ship's computer. He'd ask him for the classical music and proper biros later, when he was acting in a more professional manner and not complaining about having to keep track of the location and status of his hologramatic stationery.

Carefully he lined up his equipment on top of the desk, without a set square. He couldn't get his pens exactly perpendicular to the top of the desk without one. He'd have to ask Holly for one later. But how he could be expected to study without a set square, he didn't know! How? What if his margins weren't straight? No, don't panic. Breathe. Don't procrastinate by panicking. Just… revise.

Rimmer stood and stretched and took one last look at his quotes, preparing to start revision for his engineering exam. "Every minute starts the hour," he read, sitting down to begin his first timetable of the extended examination period. He started muttering to himself, "Now. If I start nibbling away at the revision first thing tomorrow… No, first I'd better look up all definitions of related words in a good thesaurus… That will be the first part of my revision. Okay. I'll draw up a plan for each day's work for the next say… seven months of early revision. Colour coded of course…" He picked up his pencil for his preliminary planning of his revision timetable. This would be easy. This time, nothing would go wrong. This time, with Lister bored and exploring or drunk and barely conscious, Cat involved in this season's suit making and constant showers, and Kryten doing whatever it is he does, there would be very few distractions. Nothing could go wrong.

"Now, for colour coding. How do you mix a nice marigold…"

fin

A/N: All reviews gratefully read!

Trivia:

Alternate last line: "I will become an officer. Even if it kills me". This was my original last line in the first drafts.

The title of the story is part of a Rimmerism from the TV show.


End file.
